Monthly Archives: December 2025

Merry Christmas from me to you

(credits to the owner 302 Life – photo is tagged -sourced from Facebook)

I’d just like to wish each and every one of you. a wonderful Christmas. I hope Santa has been kind to you and brought you all the books on your wish list. He’s brought me a few that were on mine.

If you’ve received a nice new kindle or perhaps a cover for an older kindle then perhaps you might also want to add some new books. I can recommend a few 😉

For those who have already read some or all of the Silver Lake series, I’m sure you can imagine Jake and Lori admiring Rehoboth Beach’s beautiful Christmas tree. I’d love to see the town at Christmas….maybe one day.

love n hugs

Coral xx

Check out the Silver Lake series today-

Amazon.com links –

Stronger Within – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VXDSC1M

Impossible Depths – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01C0GS30K

Bonded Souls – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XSQHG71

Shattered Hearts – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZY8ZSDM

Long Shadows – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08RR1FGLG

Amazon.co.uk links  –

Stronger Within – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00VXDSC1M

Impossible Depths – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01C0GS30K

Bonded Souls – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06XSQHG71

Shattered Hearts – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07ZY8ZSDM

Long Shadows – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08RR1FGLG

Have you met Riley yet?

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B9SWP6K3

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0B9SWP6K3

Or Ellen?

 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FYHKR44

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07FYHKR44

A World of Frost and Magic – a Christmas short story

Outside the world was crisp and cold. White frost sparked on the ground in the wintery sunlight. Wrapped up in a thick jacket with a fur-lined hood, hat and gloves, Rosie took her mummy’s hand and squeezed it tight. Mummy had promised her “a magical adventure.”

She had been a bit surprised when her mother had driven them to the beach but she kept quiet, trusting implicitly that Mummy knew where they were going.

It was Christmas Eve and as they had scraped the ice from the windscreen of the car before setting off, Mummy had reassured her that they could scatter the sachet of “reindeer dust” that Rosie had brought home from school as soon as they got back from their adventure. Overflowing with excitement about Christmas and Santa Claus and presents, Rosie had asked if they could lay out Santa’s milk and cookies and a carrot for Rudolph too. She had been a little bit disappointed when Mummy had said no because it would be too early but had brightened up when she promised that they would do it before bedtime.

“So much to do on Christmas Eve!” thought Rosie as she walked along the icy path holding her mother’s hand. “And we’ve got to go on this magical adventure too!”

As they walked, Mummy pointed out a huge holly bush with jaggy green leaves and millions of bright red berries. She also pointed out a tiny robin that seemed to be following them as it hopped from one fence post to the next.

Instead of taking the usual path to the beach, Mummy turned right into the woods. Without their leaves, Rosie thought the trees looked a bit scary. They towered above her! Trying to be brave, she held on even tighter to her mother’s hand.

“Nearly there,” promised Mummy, squeezing her hand. “Keep your eyes peeled for the fairy stepping stones.”

“How will I know what to look for?” quizzed Rosie.

“Round flat white stones no bigger than a penny. If they were any bigger the fairies couldn’t move them. You’ll know them when you see them.”

They had only walked a little further when Rosie spotted them. There was a whole trail of them leading away from the path into the forest.

“There they are!” squealed Rosie, eyes wide with excitement and her fear of the trees forgotten.

“If you promise to stay extra quiet, we can follow them.”

Together they tiptoed quietly into the woods, following the trail of fairy stepping stone.

“Will we see a real fairy?” whispered Rosie, taking great care not to stand on any of the small white stones.

“Maybe.”

The white pebble trail led them to a tiny fir tree standing slightly apart from the other trees.

“I think we’re just in time,” whispered Mummy. “Look down at the bottom of the tree beside the last stepping stone.”

Rosie crouched down but could only see the tree’s rough bark.

“Look closer,” encouraged Mummy.

Peering closely at the bark, Rosie saw a tiny step ladder, its top disappearing into the branches.

“Mummy, there’s a ladder,” she gasped quietly. “Is that how the fairies climb the tree?”

Her mother nodded then whispered, “Look at the branches. Look very closely at the ends.”

As she watched each branch closely, Rosie thought she saw movement between the pine needles but she couldn’t be sure then she saw that there was a tiny light at the end of one branch. Silently, she pointed to it and smiled at her mother.

As mother and daughter stood hand in hand, they watched a tiny light appear at the tip of every branch, starting from the bottom and working its way up the tree. Each light was a perfectly shaped bright white snowflake. When the trail of lights neared the top of the tree, Rosie wondered what was going to happen when the fairies reached the top.

Looking closely at the top of the tree, Rosie saw more ladders going right up through the pine needle to the very tip. Holding her breath, she watched five miniscule, winged figures climbed the ladder to the very top of the tree. Supporting each other, the fairies arranged themselves into the shape of a star with the tiniest fairy right at the very top. Once they were all in position, they each held up a lantern creating a dazzling star effect at the top of the tree. Rosie thought it was the most beautiful Christmas tree that she had ever seen.

“Time to go,” said Mummy softly.

“One more minute,” pleaded Rosie quietly, as she tried to imprint the image of the fairy lit tree into her mind.

“One minute and not a second longer,” agreed Mummy.

It had grown quite dark around them while they had been watching the lighting of the tree. As they retraced their steps, the fairy stepping stones appeared to glow in the dark, illuminating their way back to the main path. Halfway back, Rosie paused to turn to look back at the tree. It was twinkling among the huge dark trees that surrounded it. Rosie smiled.

“Come on, Rosie,” said her mother. “Time to go home and sprinkle your reindeer dust.”

With one last lingering look at the tree, Rosie headed home with her mother, hoping that Sanra might bring her a fairy doll.

(image sourced via Google- credits to the owner – no tag)

A little insight into things to come….

As it’s almost Christmas, I thought I’d share something a little sparkly and new with you this week.

As last week’s poetic blog alluded to, for the past couple of years words haven’t flowed as smoothly as I would like. I’m loathe to describe it as writer’s block as the storylines were still there for my current book baby along with ideas for future book babies. There are a dozen things that I could blame this word drought on but every time I go to type the words here, they sound like excuses to me and I’m not about to make excuses for not being able to park my backside at my desk and write as easily as I have in the past. Life happens and over the past couple of years it has thrown a few roadblocks in the way of creative progress. There’s been a lot of shadow work done in the background to clear the path. Let’s leave that thought there…

Now, I am feeling a little more confident that the word drought is finally over and thought I would share a short excerpt from Book Baby 9. The first draft started out as Book Baby 8 three years ago then, as the words weren’t flowing, I decided to publish Beginnings , my first collection of poems, so it became Book Baby 8 while I pulled it together in early 2024. When I returned to the book baby in the photo above, it naturally evolved into Book Baby 9. My first draft is not quite finished yet but I’m close enough to the end, to feel comfortable enough to share an excerpt from the start with you.

What you see in the photo is what Book Baby 9 looks like at present but there are roughly 30 000 of those words already typed. When I felt that I couldn’t write, I typed instead. It is my intention that Book Baby 9 will finally see the light of day and be set free in 2026. It’s still nameless as I type this and its naked too as I’ve not got as far as thinking about a cover design. All in good time.

For now though, for those who have been waiting so patiently for word of a new novel, here’s a little taster of what’s to come. Be gentle with these words. They are new and at present un-edited.

Streaks of spring sunshine filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the trail as she walked. She had been walking for hours, lost in her grief; lost in her thoughts. Beside her Storm and Lily walked patiently, occasionally touching her hand with their noses as if to say, “We’ve got you.” Both dogs seemed to be empathising with her emotional state.

Ahead of her, further down the trail, she could see the large flat rock at the viewpoint. Trying to gauge how much daylight was left, she decided to rest for a minute or two before walking the last couple of miles back to the studio house.

With a sigh of relief, she sat on top of the rock, drinking in the spectacular view before taking a long chug on her water bottle. At her feet, Lily let out a mournful whine.

“I know how you feel,” she said, reaching out to fondle the wolf dog’s ears. Suddenly, she felt a weight on her thigh at the other side as Storm laid his huge head down, his gaze fixed on her.

“Just give me a minute then we’ll head home. I know you guys are hungry. I am too. Didn’t mean to walk you as far but…oh, you understand, don’t you?”

By the time she reached the final section of the trail the light was fading fast. Dusk had settled quickly as they had descended. In the distance she could just see the twinkling lights that were strung round the patio at the rear of the house, and she thought she could smell a whiff of BBQ on the breeze. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food. Breakfast had been her last meal and, apart from a few fruit snacks, she hadn’t eaten all day.

“Ah, Miss Johnson, I presume,” quipped JJ from his reclined position on the hammock. “I thought you’d got lost.”

“Sorry,” apologised Riley quietly as she sat her empty water bottled on the table. “I didn’t mean to be gone all day.”

“No harm done” he said, wriggling to sit up and get his feet on the ground before the hammock tipped him out. As he stood up, JJ said, “I’ll sort the dogs and you can start dinner. The chicken skewers are in the refrigerator.”

“Sure. These guys have been good company today, but they must be starving. I’d guess we’ve walked about fifteen miles.”

“Easily done when you’re following your thoughts as well as the trail,” he commented. Snapping his fingers, he called the dogs to heel and led them round to their enclosure.

Soon Riley had the chicken kebabs on the grill and the table set for supper. She had fetched some salad and coleslaw along with a bag of tortilla chips plus plates and cutlery.

“Smells good,” complimented JJ stepping back out of the house. “Dogs are settled for the night. They were ravenous. I guess they didn’t hunt while they were with you. Storm usually snags a rabbit or two on a long hike.”

“Poor babies,” said Riley turning the skewers on the grill. “They’ll sleep well after that.”

“But will you?” he asked, handing her a beer.

“I hope so. I barely slept a wink last night.”

“You want to talk, Miss Riley?” prompted JJ softly.

Busying herself transferring the chicken onto a serving plate, the little green haired girl dodged the question until they were seated at the table. Keeping her gaze on the plate in front of her, Riley said, “I know he was old. I’d guessed he was sicker than he was letting on. Recognised the look in his eyes. My Grammy had that same look.  Wish I’d had the chance to thank him and say goodbye.”

Tears fell onto her plate as her grief crashed through her.

Written – an acrostic poem

Words usually flow freely

Racing across the page

In a few minutes the page fills

Then the world shifted

The words faltered

Endless hours staring at a blank page

Now they are trickling through once more

Five Minutes With Your 16-year-old self.

If you had the chance to sit down with your 16-year-old self for five minutes what would you say to them?

I sat down with the intention of writing this blog as a letter to my 16-year-old self. In fact, I had it half-written and I scored through it in my notebook. Why? Because if I wrote what I want to say and warned her about the decisions that perhaps did not lead down the happiest of paths or that didn’t match her 16-year-old dreams then I might not become the person I am today.

At 16 would you really believe what this weird 55-year-old version of yourself is telling you? Most likely not because a t 16 you think you’re invincible and know it all.

Looking back, I wasn’t perhaps a typical party animal teenager. I was always shy and introverted, a bit of loner with only a handful of friends. I was never popular in school. I was the girl with the long hair who was the weirdo that was always hiding in corners, scribbling furiously in a notebook. Those reading this who have known me since them are probably nodding and thinking that not much as changed in almost 40-years. To a degree, they would be right.

Would it be fair of me to go back and tell that fragile teenager that she will mess up her Highers and never get the chance to go to medical school to become a doctor?

Would it be fair to tell her about married life and her future children?

I don’t think so.

So, if I had a brief five minutes to sit and talk to my 16-year-old self, I’d tell her this.

“I love you and I am very proud of you. Don’t stop viewing the world with that child-like curiosity. Stay curious and fascinated by random things. Keep writing! Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you’re wasting your time or that you’re not good enough. You are more than good enough. Keep listening to your music. Don’t compromise your tastes to comply. Music plays a big part in your life and it always will. You’ll meet some amazing people through music. Stay in touch with your inner child. Keep her safe. She’s an integral part of what makes you who you are.”

Then I would give her a huge hug.

If she plagued me for more answers, I’d politely decline to reveal any more than that.

Throughout life we make our choices and decision based on the information available to us at that point in time. Yes, hindsight is a beautiful thing but if someone from the future influenced those decisions, even the simple ones like the decision to go out for a couple of drinks with a friend one Sunday evening when you’re 18, life would change. You wouldn’t be you. It’s the journey through life that makes us who we are and it’s taken a long time but I am proud of who I am.

I’d like to think my 16-year-old self would be proud of me too.

My 16-year-old self